


The Jacket

by QueenNeehola



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Gen, M/M, clotheswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 16:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1865388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenNeehola/pseuds/QueenNeehola
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If your captain has a bad cold, you should really offer him your warm, comfy jacket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Jacket

**Author's Note:**

> originally written for the prompt "clotheswap" @ fraxus week on tumblr.

As Freed sneezed for what he’d counted as the eighteenth – or was it nineteenth? – time in four minutes, he felt something being draped clumsily across his shoulders.  Tilting his face upwards, he got a mouth-and-noseful of fur trim, triggering another few sneezes.  When they finally relented, he cracked open his watery eyes to see Laxus looming above him, sans his trademark coat.  Freed’s sluggish brain eventually processed that what had been thrown over him was Laxus’ jacket, and a soft flush that had nothing to do with fever crept up his neck.

“If you’re gonna stick around even though you’re _dyin_ ’,” Laxus said, and close as he was he still sounded so, so far away thanks to Freed’s cold-muffled ears, “then at least take care of yourself, dumbass.”

Freed nodded silently, his aching throat reminding him that he shouldn’t risk talking.

 

Laxus settled himself back into his chair, and continued the discussion he’d been having with Evergreen and Bickslow seated opposite him.  Freed sneezed once more and a shiver crept along his bones, and he instinctively tugged at Laxus’ coat, bringing it further in around his smaller frame.

Freed sniffed, inwardly cringing at the disgusting noise the action conjured.  He _hated_ being ill – hated the temperature fluctuations, the headaches, the fatigue, the _helplessness_.

He also wasn’t keen on his nose being so blocked that he couldn’t take advantage of the fact that he was wearing Laxus’ jacket to inhale his Thunder God’s scent, but that was a different matter entirely.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Freed tried to conjure up what he imagined Laxus’ scent to be: sweat, always sweat, but not too much that it was unpleasant, because who could wear such a heavy jacket all the time and _not_ sweat?; that one particular whiskey he always ordered when he thought no one was in earshot (Makarov always drank it and apparently his grandson had similar tastes); a faint passing whiff of cigarettes, because no matter how many times Laxus insisted he’d given up, they _all_ knew it wasn’t true…

A small smile etched itself onto Freed’s face at the thought.  It wasn’t often that he let his imagination run away with itself, especially not in public, but he blamed his illness on his sudden leniency.  Or maybe it was the cosy snugness of Laxus’ coat thrown about him in swathes of thick fabric and tickling fur, as if locking him into his own personal pocket of warmth, that had caused him to resort to such…inappropriate daydreaming.  Whichever it was, his suddenly-sleepy mind couldn’t be bothered trying to correct itself.

 

Bickslow rapped the table with his knuckles, and pointed.  Laxus followed his line of sight, as did Evergreen, who snorted in a very unladylike fashion behind one of her hands.

Freed was fast asleep in his chair, wrapped in Laxus’ jacket like some sort of fur-trimmed chrysalis.  His head lolled and his mouth hung open slightly; small soft snores were just audible.

“I guess the meetin’s over, then,” Bickslow piped up, his totem puppets chiming in with a chorus of “over, over!”

“Can’t continue while the captain’s asleep,” Evergreen agreed, and as one, they rose from their seats and bid Laxus a hasty farewell each.

He watched them go, realising too late that meant that _he’d_ have to be the one to carry Freed to bed.


End file.
